Puppy Love
by glanmire
Summary: Armando is actually not dead, and he's still in love with Alex. Thing is, Alex is with Hank now. And Pietro Maximoff has his eyes on our resident furry scientist, plus Charles is pining over Erik, and somehow amidst all that there's an attack from the brotherhood, a teleporting baby, and some serious UST.
1. Chapter 1

i.

Ding_ dong, _the doorbell goes. _DingdongdingDONGDING._

"Alright," Alex says crabbily, to himself, and prises himself off Hank. He goes to the door, expecting it to be one of the kids that somehow got out and now wanted back in. It's hard to hold a curfew when some kids can walk through walls.

What he wasn't expecting was his dead ex-boyfriend, wearing the clothes he died in.

"Hey Alex," Armando says, "how's it going?"

ii.

Armando, as it turns out, did not technically die.

"But- I saw you- Shaw-" Alex splutters, stuttering as bad as Hank does. Armando calmly accepts a glass of water from Charles, although he eyes the wheelchair oddly. "I adapt to survive, remember?" he says. "I always survive one way or another. Shaw did blast me to bits though. I had to put myself back together at like, a molecular level. How long was I out? I'm sorry Alex, were you worried?"

Alex gapes at him. Hank gapes at him. Even Charles' mouth is hanging open.

Armando, unfazed, looks around the kitchen. "Did you guys redecorate or something? Seriously, how long has it been? And what's with the facial hair professor?" His gaze slides right over Hank, like he doesn't even know him, which is fair enough, because blue Hank does not resemble the human-looking guy Darwin used to know.

"Darwin-" Charles says, and then grimaces, and for once, Alex won't let the professor go ahead and botch this one up. He steps forward and lightly lays his hand on Darwin's arm, just enough pressure to be reassuring.

"Armando man, maybe we should sit down and talk about this."

Worry works its way into Armando's flawless features, and Alex feels a stab of pity for him. "Why?" he asks plainly, and reads the truth of it off Alex's face. "How long has it been?" he asks quietly, for a third time, and Alex can't lie to him.

"Eleven years," he says, and Armando's face just crumples, and he falls into Alex's arms and Alex just stands there and holds him as he sobs, and says things to him, anything, soft things that he didn't even know he had in him, gentle reassurances. He holds Armando and talks to him softly, and forgets all about Hank, who stands behind him, utterly silent.

iii.

It's a long time later before Armando calms a little and they get him onto the couch.

Pietro, the hyper-active teenager who is oddly friendly with Hank, has of course implanted himself right in the middle of this emotional scene.

"This is unbelievably cool," Pietro is saying, bouncing on his heels. "This is just the coolest thing I've ever heard, ever."

"Yeah," Armando says weakly. "Well, it's a touch disorientating for me. It's like no more than an hour has past."

He looks at Alex again, like he wants to say more, like he just wants to collapse into his arms again and stay there for a long, long time.

"I'll make some tea," Hank offers.

"Fantastic idea," Charles says.

"Alex will help me," Hank says.

"Will I?" Alex shoots back. Darwin has his eyes on Alex like he's the only thing he trusts in a world gone mad, and Hank can understand Alex's hesitation at leaving him, even for a second, but on the other hand, he and Alex really, really need to talk.

"Yes," Hank says firmly, and Alex gets up, even his body language screaming that he's doing this reluctantly.

They go to the kitchen. Hank boils the kettle and Alex stares at him sullenly, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Well?" he prompts.

"Look," Hank says, "I get it. You and Darwin, you had something. You and me, we're just a thing that happened, that happens. I'm not blind, Alex."

Alex's face softens, just for a second. "Don't make it like that man."

"I'm not," Hank says. "There's no hard feelings. You have nothing to feel guilty about, okay? As of now, we're both completely unattached. And I'm not saying that you should start up with him again right away, though go for it if you want to. I'm just saying I'm not going to hold you back."

Alex looks relieved, and that's what kills Hank, absolutely tears his heart out. He may be a huge blue monstrosity, but he stills feels things.

"Thanks man," Alex is saying, though Hank only hears it dimly, "I better get back. You don't actually need help with the tea, do you?"

"No, I'm fine," Hank says. Alex nods once and leaves him to the kettle, which is rumbling like thunder.

_I'm fine, I'm fine, _he repeats in his head over and over again. His hands are shaking so badly that when he pours the boiling water, some splashes onto his arms. It doesn't even hurt, not so badly as the relief on Alex's face did.

But Hank is a good guy, and he won't let his feelings get in the way of someone else's happiness. They don't need to see him being as blue as his fur, so Hank will make himself smile, and carry the tea into the front room, so he can ask Darwin if there's anything else he needs, other than the love of Hank's life, that is.


	2. Chapter 2

i.

Charles is not like a kid left in foster care, who's always waiting for their parents to visit, and jumps every time the door bell rings. He's not.

But tonight, when it went on and on so persistently; well that does sound like Erik's stubbornness, doesn't it? Charles can't be blamed for getting a tiny bit excited, feeling a slight flutter of anticipation. He might have even let himself imagine Erik at the door, repenting for all his horrendous behaviour, full of apologies, but only for a second.

Of course, it's fantastic that Armando is alive, after all these years. It's wonderful news, truly wonderful, even if it's not the visitor Charles was hoping for.

ii.

The tea Hank has made is both the colour and texture of muddy water, and it's really not up to Hank's usually high standards. Charles puts it down regretfully.

"Darwin," he says, "you must be exhausted. I'll have a room made up for you."

"Near mine," Alex insists. "Just in case."

Darwin smiles, just for a second, at that. "I know I was out for like a decade, but yeah, I'm shattered."

Charles looks pointedly at Pietro.  
"_Fine,_" Pietro huffs, "but I'm not your housekeeper. I know I have the most convenient powers ever when it comes to shitty jobs, but like, don't abuse your students either."

Hank turns to Pietro, jaw tight. "Could you just do it?"

"Of course doc," Pietro says - that kid is as changeable as the weather, Charles muses. He disappears, but Hank still looks sullen, cradling his cup of tea like he needs the warmth. It's all so confusing; Charles feels like he's watching a tennis match but can only see the players and not the ball that connects their shots. There's something going on here that will explain all of the various clues; the badly-made tea, the set of Hank's jaw, Alex's request to have Darwin close to him. Maybe Pietro's wink even fits in there too somewhere.

Charles shakes his head. He was never fantastic at solving mysteries or even reading people- he always cheated and read their minds instead. But his students deserve better than him poking around in their skulls to explain their behaviour - much like a worried parent reading a teenager's private diary- and so he leaves their thoughts alone.

"I'm back. It's done," Pietro says unnecessarily.

"Thanks," Armando says. "Well, if no-one minds, I'm going to head up."

"I'll show you the way," Alex offers, and the two of them disappear. Charles is left with his horrible - and now lukewarm cup of tea - an irrationally moody Hank, and Pietro, who is sitting quietly and staring up at Hank. He also be wondering what's troubling Hank, Charles supposes. Why else would Pietro be staring at Hank?

iii.

"I didn't want to ask in front of the others," Armando starts, and Alex knows he's going to say _but are you with Hank now?_ They stop in the middle of the hallway, just outside his room. "But, why is the professor in a wheelchair? What on earth happened to Hank?"

Alex blinks. Not the question he'd been expecting, but entirely valid ones nonetheless. The answers aren't easy either.

He doesn't answer just yet, just drinks in the sight of Armando, dark where Alex is light, strong where Alex is weak.

Alex had been drawn to Armando because Armando was invincible. He was the strongest there, and when you grow up in prison, strength is everything.

In return, Alex had bullied Hank because Hank was weak, and the world as he knew it worked that way.

Armando had died though - well, not really, but for all intents and purposes he did - and Hank became this great big muscular _thing. _He should have grown a backbone too when he grew all those muscles, but he hadn't. He shouldn't be letting himself be bullied, should be the powerful one, but he's not. He still lets Alex walk all over him, and Alex does, because he's bored, because he can, because that's all he's ever known.

"There's a lot to catch up on," he admits after a moment, and Armando just stares at him, and Alex doesn't feel angry at all. He feels… better, somehow.

"Tell me all tomorrow?" Armando asks.

"Of course," Alex says. "Hey look, my room is just over there," and he points, stupidly, "if you know, you need anything."

"Thanks," Armando says, and it's awkward. Should they hug, or what? Alex remembers how easily they touched not an hour ago, and wonders what's changed since then. He raps his hand against the wall instead, the sound echoing with a good finality.

"See you tomorrow," he says, and Armando nods and heads into his own room, and Alex does the same.  
He crawls into bed and expects to be up all night thinking about everything that's happened, but instead falls asleep almost immediately, and has a dreamless kind of sleep that he hasn't had in a very long time.

iv.

"Hey doc," Pietro says, appearing suddenly in Hank's lab. Hank had actually gotten up at the crack of dawn - it may or may not still officially count as night-time it's so goddamn early - to try and get some work done, to clear his head without anyone yapping at him. And Pietro is a yapper, no doubt about that.

"I'm kind of busy here Pietro."

"No problem, I can watch," Pietro says. Hank doubts that.

He turns on the microscope and fiddles with the lens, hoping Pietro will take the hint.

"Yeah," Pietro says, now standing extremely close to him, "you know, I'm just _so _interested in science."

"Which branch of science?" Hank asks.

Pietro blinks. "Whatever you're into, doc."

That doesn't make any sense. "Do you mind Pietro? I really need some quiet to do this."

The kid looks heartbroken - god, he must really be fascinated by Hank's work - so Hank backtracks a little. "Look, you can come by again this afternoon, and I'll show you the basics, okay?" He's thinking maybe starting off with a bit of Biology, Physics and Chemistry, and seeing what Pietro has an aptitude for.

Pietro winks at him again. "I look forward to whatever you want to teach me, doc," and he's gone again.

Hank doesn't know what all this winking business is about, but it's nice to see that young people are still enthusiastic about science at least.


End file.
